


Fallen Flower Petals

by littlebirdfalling



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: (can you believe I'm writing fluff?), (who would've thought it was possible?), Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, M/M, Multi, Other, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-07 10:58:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15217676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlebirdfalling/pseuds/littlebirdfalling
Summary: To say that Jehan and Claquesous are very different would be an understatement





	1. Chapter 1

To say that Jehan and Claquesous are very different would be an understatement. Jehan is cheerful, bright, greeting every customer to their flower shop with a smile even on their worst days. Claquesous is overdramatic, his clothes are much too dark for Jehan’s taste (and sometimes bloodstained!) and he spends most of his shifts scowling at any customer who dares talk to him-or any employee, for that matter.

But there's a reason he’s Jehan’s cofounder and number one employee-and that's because he has a knowledge of flowers, and flower language, better than any other employee in the shop-a knowledge that could even rival Jehan’s. Nobody knows how he came by this knowledge. Fauntleroy had asked, several times, and every time the answer is the same.

“Isn't there something you're supposed to be doing?”

So, despite all their differences, Jehan and Claquesous work very well indeed together.

For the most part.

  
  


“Good morning, Claquesous.” Jehan calls, unlocking the door with a sigh. There's a muffled grunt from the back room, and they take that as an acknowledgement. No doubt Sous came through the window again.

Sure enough, he’s perched on the table like a bird of prey-if a bird of prey could scroll through a cell phone. He’s left the window wide open again.

“What is the point of you having a key if you never use it?” With a sigh, Jehan closes the window, latching it firmly.

“Faun will be cross.”

“Fauntleroy can use the damn door like everyone else.” 

Okay, so maybe Jehan isn't having the greatest of mornings, but that's fine! They just need to tend to the flowers and do some arrangements and they'll feel better. Really.

The door opens again, and Jehan instantly knows it’s Gueulemer and Glorieux, because they're arguing. Loudly. The door slams-probably Gueul going out to have a smoke-and Glorieux curses loudly.

“Morning Jehan. Morning Sous.” He mutters, walking by the back room.

“Morning, Glor.” Jehan calls, with a grimace. They're going to find the two making out in some closet before noon, they're sure of it. Claquesous rolls his eyes, irritated as ever with the two.

“I'm going to do some arrangements.” Jehan sighs, and leaves without a further word.

 

“Bad day?” Faun asks, alarmingly close to Jehan. They yelp, jumping away.

“ _ Faun _ .” They scold. “You  _ scared _ me.”

“Sorry.” Their grin is apologetic, but Jehan can see the amused spark in their eyes. “Need any help?”

“Sure.” Jehan says, grinning back at them. Faun does have a way of cheering them up. They get to work beside Jehan, chattering away endlessly about something-Jehan catches Bizarro’s name a few times, and a few mentions of Claquesous but the rest slips through their memory without a trace. 

“All right, you two, are we opening anytime soon?” Claquesous asks. “Or are we going to talk the whole day?” Faun flips Claquesous off, but Jehan laughs.

“He’s right, it’s opening time. Put these bouquets up for me?”

“Of course.” Fauntleroy says, gathering them up in their arms until their face is completely hidden by flowers. Not an unusual sight, with Fauntleroy.

Jehan opens the front door, to switch the sign to open, and pauses for a moment. The sun is still weak, the sunrise turning the clouds pink, and casting a soft glow over the whole street. With a smile, they walk back inside.

 

“Thank you for choosing us, and have a nice day!” Jehan smiles at the customer as they walk away, and lets out a sigh. That's the last of them for a moment, and the shop is empty again.

“Sous, do we need to bring out more roses?” Jehan asks. 

“We’ve got about two dozen left out at the moment. But we should probably bring out some more Callia Lilies.”

“All right. Hey, Gueul?” Gueulemer looks up from where he’s tying a ribbon around a peony.

“Yeah?”

“Can you go get another bag of potting soil?”

“Sure.” He sets the flower down on a shelf, brushes his hands off on his pants, and sets off. 

“I’m going to take my break and run out to get lunch.” Faun says, pulling the hairtie out of their colorful curls. “Anybody want something to eat?”

“Ooh, get me a sandwich.” Jehan says. “You're a gem.”

“I'm good.” Claquesous says, not looking up from his phone.

“Has anybody ever actually seen him eat?” Jehan stage whispers to Fauntleroy.

“We’re all convinced he’s a vampire.” Faun replies, grinning widely. 

“I could see that.” Jehan agrees. “Maybe I should put on a scarf.” Claquesous doesn't say anything, furiously texting away on his phone. “Is he actually not hearing us?”

“There was a job last night, things went wrong. He and Babet are still sorting out the mess. So I’d say he’s either ignoring us until we go away, or he actually can't hear us. Odds are about fifty fifty.” Jehan frowns. They don't much like hearing about patron minette’s escapades, especially when any of them get hurt.

“Is everyone okay?”

“Oh, yeah, we’re all fine. Nobody got hurt. Well. None of us, anyway. I'll be back!” They throw their canvas bag over their shoulder and jog out of the shop, as Jehan looks on in amusement.

“You're sure you're okay then, Sous?”

“I'm fine.” He mutters.

“So you didn't get hurt?”

“ _ No _ , Jehan.”

“What's that on your cheek then?” He grimaces, hand going to the angry red cut almost on reflex, like he’d forgotten it was there.

“Just a scratch. It's nothing.” He’s spared from further questions when the door opens, announcing someone’s arrival in the shop. The two look up as one. It's a man, with his hair slicked back, an expensive looking suit, and eyeliner coating his already dark eyes. He smirks.

“Hello.”

“Montparnasse?” Jehan and Claquesous say in the same breath-Jehan incredulous, and Claquesous more confused than anything.

“Hey. Miss me?”

“I got the-” There's a heavy thud, as Gueulemer drops the bag of potting soil. “Montparnasse?”

“Yup.”

“I'm...going to go get Glor…” He sprints off without a further word, his footsteps echoing through the store.

“So those two have gotten their shit together?” Montparnasse asks lightly. Claquesous just glares.

“It's been almost two years.” Jehan says, their voice worryingly tremulous.

“You have some fucking explaining to do.” Claquesous spits, furiously.

“What do you want to know?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claquesous is conflicted, Montparnasse is surprised, and Jehan is....Jehan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for smoking and mentions of past violence  
> I really think you guys are gonna like this one lmao :D

“So you were just, hiding? For  _ two years? _ ” Jehan asks. 

“From  _ Thenardier? _ ” Claquesous snorts. 

“You’d go dark too, if he was trying to kill you.” Montparnasse mutters. “But now the Thenardier kids are in danger, so...I’m back.”

“I’ve got to tell Eponine.” Jehan frowns.

“She already knows. She’s the one who gave me the intel that her father was back in town.”

“Oh, was she.” Claquesous asks, his face impassive. “Well. Good to know  _ Eponine _ is important enough to merit staying in contact. I’m sure she feels fucking special.” He stalks out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Jehan sighs heavily.

“Fucking drama queen.” Montparnasse mutters, rolling his eyes. “How have you been, Jehan?”

“Busy.” They reply. “After you left, Claquesous and I opened this place up. Somehow, most of Patron Minette ended up working here.” Montparnasse hums noncomitally.

“Still involved with that justice club?”

“Yes, Les Amis is still going strong.” Jehan glances towards the door. There’s no sign of Fauntleroy returning with lunch (they probably got distracted talking to the cute waiter again) or Claquesous coming back (probably still too pissed off), which means there’s no chance of easing the tension.

 

“Put away that disgusting deathstick.” Claquesous sneers.

“Hey, you’re the one who came out here.” Gueulemer says, unperturbed. He blows some smoke in Claquesous’s face. “What are you so pissy about? Mad that your boyfriend left without telling you?”

“He was  _ not _ my boyfriend.” Claquesous replies.

“No? Your neck used to say otherwise, whenever he spent the night.”   


“Fuck off, Gueulemer.”

“I call it like I see it.” 

“We fucked a couple times. Whatever. But he was still my fucking friend, acquaintance,  _ whatever, _ he had no right, could’ve at least contacted me-instead of fucking  _ Eponine- _ ”

“You’re jealous.” Gueulemer’s eyes widen. “Oh my god. You’re jealous of Eponine.”

“What? No.”

“Mhm. You’re jealous because he called her and not you.” Gueulemer puts out his cigarette. “You do know those two grew up together, right?”

“Wouldn’t’ve come out here if I’d known you were gonna be like this.” Claquesous gripes.

“Not to mention her life was in danger. You got all  _ soft,  _ working in a flower shop.”

“If you say another word, I’ll break your fucking nose. Again.” 

  
  


When Claquesous steps back inside, Jehan is sat cross legged on the counter, flowers spread about. It looks like they’re busy on some sort of arrangement, but he knows they’re just trying to occupy their hands. Meanwhile, Montparnasse is leaning against the counter, watching them with a mixture of fondness and fascination that makes Claquesous want to vomit. 

“Jehan.” He says, sharply. “Don’t you have that meeting?” They glance at the clock.

“Oh, yes. I do. You’re good with closing up tonight?”

“Of course.”

“And make sure Faun doesn’t steal any of my forget me nots for their garden.”

“That I can’t promise.” He rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, Jehan, the building will still be standing when you return tomorrow.”

“Fine.” They sigh. “Goodbye, you two.” They hop off the counter and press a kiss to Montparnasse’s cheek, making his jaw go slack with shock. Claquesous would laugh if it wasn’t making his stomach turn so weirdly. “Here are the keys.” Jehan places them in his waiting palm, and then stretches to their tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek as well. They’re gone before he can process it, the only sign that they were there in the first place the lingering scent of their perfume on the air.

“Jehan Prouvaire.” Montparnasse breathes.

“Jehan Prouvaire.” Claquesous agrees, half amused and half unexplainably flustered.

 

**Plantaddict: running a bit late ahhhh**

**Plantaddict: im on my way right now**

**Courfgayrac: bitch u better not miss tonights meeting we brought haley**

**Plant addict: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

**Mothdaddy: It was clearly a bad decision. No work is getting done.**

**urbiggestfan: ha that’s because enj is too busy playing uncle**

**Enjolras: Admittedly, when Courf and Ferre told me they were adopting, I didn’t realise what an involved process it would be**

**aRtfuckeR: translation-he didn’t realise how much he would love the kid**

**Urbiggestfan: im sobbing guys she’s too cute she just climbed up in Enj’s lap**

**Plantaddict: DON’T LET HER DO ANYTHING ELSE CUTE YET IM ALMOST THERE I PROMISE**

**aRtfuckeR: too late she stuck her thumb in her mouth and fell asleep**

**Plantaddict: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

  
  


“What did I miss?” Jehan asks, breathlessly, the door to the musain not even closed behind them.

“You’ll let in flies.” Combeferre says mildly. Making a face, they pull the door closed.

“Where’s my favorite girl?” Courfeyrac grins wildly, and points to the corner of the room. Enjolras is engaged in some sort of debate with Grantaire, and he’s gesturing passionately, even as one arm supports the toddler asleep on his shoulder. “Awww.” Jehan coos, a warmth spreading inside their chest. “That’s  _ adorable. _ ”

“I think we’ve almost convinced those two to adopt.” Combeferre half smiles, tiredly. 

“Oh no, is that what they’re arguing about?”

“Nah.” Eponine snorts, appearing beside Jehan out of nowhere (and definitely not making them jump). “Actually, right now they’re debating whether the amazon strike is going to work, or whether it’s pointless.

“And how long have they been debating this?” Jehan sighs.

“Hm, about twenty minutes? A while.”

“I’m not going over there this time.” Jehan crosses their arms. 

“Oh, please Jehan, we can’t let them keep at this.” Courfeyrac pleads. “It will end in another makeout session on the table, you know that, my eyes can’t handle that sort of assault.

“Get Cosette to do it.” Jehan frowns.

“She’s home sick.” Eponine sighs. “She has the flu. Refused to let me skip this meeting though.”

“Sounds like Cosette.” Jehan agrees. “Tell her I hope she feels better.”

“Course. Be right back.” Eponine steps away from the small huddle.

“Hey! Fuckfaces! Break it up or I’ll break your noses!” She threatens. Enjolras looks taken aback, while Grantaire only smirks, flipping her off. 

“Nice try, 'Ponine!” He calls. “Can’t make my nose any uglier than it is!”

“Grantaire,  _ no- _ ” Enjolras starts. The girl in his arms stirs with a small noise, her hand going to his face in distress, and he immediately abandons the argument to lightly shush her, rocking from foot to foot. Grantaire stands up, looking completely enamored, and raises a hand to stroke her hair gently.

“Courf.” Combeferre whispers. “Get some pictures...and then go get our daughter before those two decide to keep her.”

“Least we’d get some sleep if they did.” Courf mutters.

“ _ Courfeyrac! _ ”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going,  _ dearest _ .”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claquesous is very fed up. Patron minette finds it amusing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw for mentions of violence and (empty) threats of death/bodily harm

“You’re pissed off at me.” Montparnasse says, his tone as light and careless as if they were talking about the best brand of fertilizer for the rose Claquesous is currently mangling.

“Nope.” Claquesous replies, not looking up. He knows what will happen if he looks into Montparnasse’s face. Because Parnasse will give him that devilish smirk, say something sarcastic, and Claquesous will have stopped being mad before he’s even taken a breath. And damnit, he wants to be mad, he  _ deserves  _ to be mad.

“You finished dethorning that thing at least two minutes ago. Are you trying to de-stem it as well?”

“Fuck off.”

“Aww, Sous, don’t be like that.” There’s a long moment of silence, and then Montparnasse sighs dramatically. “ _ Fine. _ I guess it’s going to take something shiny to catch your attention.” 

He recognizes the gleam of a knife blade immediately, even out of the corner of his eye, and drops the rose without a second thought.

“Is that…?” The handle of it has an ornate pattern, he can see that from here he is, something that looks like it’s almost  _ woven, _ out of stainless steel and something darker than night itself. He reaches out a hand, immediately.

“Give.”

“Impatient.” Montparnasse tuts, but hands it over with a sly grin. “Look at the blade.” Claquesous flips it over immediately. There, near the base, the words _ un nocturne à deux voix  _ are engraved.

“I-” His breath catches in his throat. “You’re still an asshole.” 

“I know.” Montparnasse agrees.

“Two fucking  _ years, _ what the hell, I ought to slit your throat with this thing.”

“Please don’t, this shirt was expensive.”

“There’s no way you bought it.”

“Still expensive for  _ someone. _ ” 

Claquesous shakes his head, and then reaches over to punch Montparnasse in the shoulder.  _ Hard. _

“If you  _ ever. _ ” He says. “ _ Ever _ do that again…” He waves the knife menacingly. Montparnasse laughs, sharp and surprised.

“Fuck. I’d forgotten how funny you are.” Claquesous only scowls. “Well.” Montparnasse says, brushing his legs off as he stands up. “It’s been fun. Really.” 

“And where are you going.” Claquesous narrows his eyes.

“Oh, out.” Montparnasse says airily. “Take the city in. Get a feel for the nightlife.”

“Pretentious bastard.” Claquesous mutters. “You got a phone yet?” 

“Check your pocket.” Montparnasse grins, and he’s gone with a turn of his coat. Sure enough, in Claquesous’s breast pocket, there’s a small slip of paper with a phone number written on it. 

He starts laughing.

“Now that’s a sound I haven’t heard in a while.” Fauntleroy teases, from somewhere behind him. Claquesous sobers immediately.

“What the fuck, Faun, how long have you been  _ standing _ there?”

“Oh….long enough.”

“ _ Fauntleroy. _ ”

 

**Eponine: jehan was in very high spirits today....**

**Montparnasse: hm**

**Eponine: I don’t suppose you’d know anything about that**

**Montparnasse: not a clue**

**Montparnasse: you at home yet**

**Eponine: bingeing netflix with Gav and painting zel’s nails**

**Montparnasse: Omw over**

**Eponine: k**

  
  


“And so I told him he could shove it up his-”

“ _ Gavroche! _ ”

“What?! I was gonna say butt!” Eponine gives him a look. 

“Nice try, kid.” He rolls his eyes at her. Montparnasse smirks, leaning back further into the couch. He’s missed the Thenardier kids. Since he was gone, they’ve changed. Eponine is less angry, Azelma is less quiet, and Gavroche-well actually, Gavroche is just as much a little troublemaker as ever, just better at not getting caught.

“I got suspended today.” Azelma says, blowing on her nails, and Montparnasse and Eponine turn to her with matching expressions.

“You did  _ what? _ ” They say simultaneously. She shrugs.

“Yeah. Kyra asked me why my parents hadn’t taught me how to match my clothing better, I told her to fuck off, she didn’t listen. Started telling me that I’d never amount to anything because I was being raised by you. So in my defense, it was her fault.”

“Okay, first of all.” Montparnasse says. “I taught you how to match clothes, and while your fashion sense leaves something to be desired, it’s not bad.”

“That is so not the point here.” Eponine sighs. “What did you do to her?”

“I punched her in the face.” She shrugs. “Like I said, it was her fault.” Eponine shakes her head.

“Did you at least break her nose?” Montparnasse asks.

“No.” Azelma rolls her eyes. She pulls her legs up underneath her chin, resting it on her knees. “I should’ve.” Eponine and Montparnasse exchange a look, equal parts amused and worried. “Somebody turn on the food network?” She asks.

“What?!” Gavroche protests. “I’m watching this!” Eponine glances at the tv for the first time. 

“Isn’t this rated R for like, a shit ton of violence?” She asks.

“Mhm. It’s awesome.”

“Oh,  _ hell _ no.”

  
  


Claquesous slams the door behind him, hard enough that it rattles in it’s frame.

“Sounds like somebody had a bad day.” Bizarro calls from the living room.

“Fuck off, Biz.” He replies. “And get off my damn couch.”

“Technically our couch. Technically everyone’s couch.”

“ _ Technically, _ I’m the one who rents this place, and I don’t see you contributing. So  _ technically _ , the only people allowed to use  _ my goddamn couch _ are Gueul, Faun, and Babet. Maybe Brujon sometimes.”

“Wow, you really  _ are _ pissy today.” Bizarro appears in the doorway, hand on her hip. “Did something happen at work?”

“Nothing.” Claquesous mutters, opening his fridge. Sure enough, she’s taken the chinese leftovers. “Absolutely fucking nothing.”

“Really. So, no faces from the past, or ex lovers come to visit. Just perfectly ordinary.”

“ _ Ugh. _ ” Claquesous makes a face. “Who told you?”

“Faun.”

“Of course they did.” The second part of her sentence registers then. “ _ Ex lovers? _ What the fuck, that’s not-me and  _ Montparnasse? _ Also,  _ lovers? _ Have you been watching romcoms or something lately?” She shrugs.

“I call it like I see it.”   
“You and Gueul really need to stop hanging out.”

“Just try and stop us.”

The door slams closed again.

“Honeyyy, I’m home.” Gueulemer calls. A long standing joke between him and Bizarro that Claquesous has never quite understood.

“Hi, Gueul.” She calls back. “Sous is pissy, might want to stay away.”

“Oh, believe me, I know.” Gueulemer pokes his head through the door. “Me and Faun had a good laugh about it. He’s trying to ignore us.”

“Evidently not succeeding, since I can’t turn around without bumping into one of you.” Claquesous gripes. “Fucking bullshit is what it is.”

“Awww, c’mon, you love us.” Bizarro grins.

“I tolerate you. Sometimes.” She rolls her eyes. 

“Whatever. We should go out tonight, you guys.”

“Yes.” Gueulemer grins. “Go out, get drunk, start a proper fight.”

“I’m all for it.” Faun says, directly behind Sous. He doesn’t betray his surprise. He’s used to Faun just  _ appearing _ by now.

“If any of you gets hurt you’re getting the lecture about drinking responsibly again.” Babet yells from down the hall.

“Fuck off, old man!” Gueulemer replies cheerfully. “I’ll call Brujon.”

“Oh, maybe if he’s drunk we can convince him to get a haircut finally.”

“I like the way you think, Biz.”


End file.
